It hides inside soundproof offices and tinted windows, inside houses so large that footsteps disappear before reaching the next room.
That was the atmosphere surrounding Adrian Vale long before tragedy touched his life.
A titan of global finance, Adrian was the kind of man whose decisions bent markets before sunrise. Analysts studied his quarterly letters the way priests studied scripture. When he moved money, industries trembled.
But none of those headlines mentioned the things that mattered most inside the walls of his Montauk estate.
Like the way his wife Maris hummed absentmindedly while cooking dinner.
Or how their son Theo used to race through the marble hallways in socked feet, skidding into corners and laughing so loudly the house seemed built for joy.
The accident erased that sound.
